Three weeks at a job and I’m already leaving. Unwittingly, I came to the painful realization that I can’t spend the rest of my life writing mostly imaginary reviews of bars, clubs and restaurants I’ve never even heard of. Not to mention convincing news releases about such exciting products as the armani phone. (I had to write the last one three times. It just didn’t sound happy enough.)

Naturally, I was tempted to put up with it for a while, mostly
because it was so…well, hilarious. Sadly, I am not some kind of comedy character, meaning I had to think of the future (oh no…).
To prove my commitment to utter seriousness, I'm moving to a
rather conservative newspaper.

This shall be a clash of wills: Am I going to become a religious law-abiding citizen? Will I dye my hair blond, wear suits to work and get married within a year? Or will I succeed into secretly adding tiny but potentially explosive elements to the mix? (A subtle revolution? Who do you think you are, you idiot?)

Anyway, I do apologise for abandoning my much-preferred surrealism, only to delve in reality’s realms. One last admission before I return to my old familiar self: They were right. In this country, you hardly stand a chance without connections.
Does it get any uglier than that?

Yet maybe- I said maybe, ok?- things can change. I mean, it would be such a shame to permanently abandon this beautiful place to these terrible people.(Oups, am I now turning into an advocate of ethnic cleansing, before even setting foot in that newspaper? Someone please get me out of here!)